Elva Farrell
by Lady Aarya
Summary: This is the story of Elva Farrell. This is the story of her determination and choice.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling.**

 **This is a OC-centric fanfiction. I am going to say goodbye to Canon here. If you don't enjoy that then, yes, don't read.**

It was a hot summer day in July. I was going to get my acceptance letter from various private schools. My mother wished that her alma mater, Downe House, would accept me.

I felt any education was a good education and so did Father.

The atmosphere at the breakfast table was tense. Though, my father tried to lighten the mood with weird stories. "Imogen, maybe, you're a witch!" He said with childish glee. Mother glared at him and told him to eat his pancakes.

My father taught engineering or something at Imperial College. Yet, sometimes, he would tell me of the strangest things. He would speak of Dragons and Mermaids as if they were real.

Mother rolled her eyes at his antics. Calling them products of his frustrated imagination. Father would laugh, a booming laughter, at her rejection.

It was 9 on a Sunday and the bell rang. A strange foreboding feeling set upon me. This wasn't unusual, of course. Sometimes the neighbors would come to our house in the morning to talk to mother.

I knew in my heart that it wasn't the neighbors.

Fillius Flitwick was a short man. Yet, what he did for me that day was a quite tall indeed. He convinced my mother that magic was real. He convinced her that I should go to Hogwarts. To the Castle of Magic itself.

Father was silent during this exchange. I, a little muddled.

"Do strange things happen around you, Miss Farrell?" He asked. His voice was polite but intrigued. He seemed genuinely curious.

"I...No...I healed Rowena when I found her." I told him. Finally.

"Who is Rowena?" He asked. My mother was glaring daggers at Father and I.

"She's my pet Raven. I found her when I was 5." I told him. "She was injured, you see. But, my parents were out and my caretaker, , was asleep." I took a deep breath. "So, I just hoped that she would heal and she did."

"I told Daddy about it and he told me it was Okay." I added in a silent voice.

Daddy wrapped his arms around me. "It's okay, sweetheart. This is not your fault." He said again.

"It's a gift, Miss Farrell. You seem to be a natural healer." Flitwick said, clapping his tiny hands. "They are a rarity."

Then we were off to London to pick up my school supplies. Mother wasn't going because she had promised her friend that she would be meeting her.

Diagon Alley was like Disney Land. In some ways. Though something darker lurked behind this carefree facade or so I felt.

I bought a book called _Introduction to Wizarding Society by Mary McDonald._

Professor Flitwick gifted me _The Healer's Helpmate compiled by H. Pollingtonious._ It looked glorious to me.

This was of course along with my course books.

I also had Father promise that he would bring me here again before School.

Ollivander was a fascinating experience. One I would prefer not to repeat. He seemed to see through my perfect student shell and I didn't enjoy that.

The first wand I got was perfect for me. Ollivander seemed a little perturbed at that. My wand is Birch wood with Phoenix Core.

The car ride back home I worried about my mother's reaction to all this...magic. She wasn't religious, no. Though she did believe in God. She was just rational.

This shattered her world view more than it did mine or father's. He always said Magic was real, if only we looked for it and I, well, I believed him. Not completely. Just, I knew that he was right and that there was a world of Magic.

When we got home. Father said he had something to tell, mother and I.

"Don't tell me you're a Wizard, Geth." Mother said a little exasperated.

Father smiled. "No, I am not a Wizard hun. Though I do wish I was sometimes." He said laughing.

"I am a squib." Father said with hesitance.

"What is a Squib?" Mum and I asked at the same time.

"My whole family was magical." Father said, now more sure of himself. "I thought I was too, that is until I was 11 and didn't got my Hogwarts letter." He gulped. "Next day, I was in the orphanage."

His eyes held unshed tears and horror.

"but...Dad. You said you didn't know your family." I half questioned.

"My wizarding name was Gethen Malfoy." He said.

"I changed it to Farrell because…"

"your orphanage head was Farrell and he's the only Father you accept." Mum completed for him.

I didn't know how but we were all hugging now. Shedding tears that my Father tried hide so long.


End file.
